


The Sunday Girlfriend

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-08
Updated: 2012-05-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley is struck by the idea of having a Sunday girlfriend, but what he ends up doing is having a rather unexpected brunch with Colin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sunday Girlfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tweet from Adam B, an Assistant Director on _Merlin_. 
> 
>  

♦

## one

It was one of those lovely sunny blue–skied days; the sort that weekends should be made of, but which always seemed so startling when you were in London. You got so used to greyness and drizzle, that you forgot the weather could at times do the right thing. Consequently, everyone was in a holiday mood, and the nearby markets along with the cafe which Bradley had chosen for brunch were doing a lively trade. True, the breeze was just a little on the fresh side, but then that just gave everyone an even better excuse to bask in the sunshine, and after all a brisk London day was better than a stale one, no matter what the season.

Bradley sighed, alone in the midst of people who seemed to a man – and indeed, to a woman – happy and convivial. Out with their mates, making the most of the Spring day that did actually feel as if it were Spring. Everyone was loudly chatting away, sharing stories and jokes, and laughing. And completely ignoring Bradley, who sat there isolated at a cafe table opposite an empty chair.

He sighed again, and picked up his phone after having only put it down a moment before. He called up Twitter, and thumbed through his favourites, looking for the tweet that had got him into this stupid situation. It was from Adam, back in March sometime. Yes, there it was. 25 March 2012.

> Who wants to be my Sunday girlfriend? No pressure to be around the rest of the wk, just brunch, hugs and laughter of a weekend. Apply within

At the time Bradley had thought that was brilliant, and went around showing everyone, making them read it on his phone. They reacted with smiles and chuckles, and the occasional glance or shoulder–pat of sympathy which Bradley skilfully ignored. Bradley had finally tracked down Adam, and said, ‘That’s awesome! Mate, when you find one, if she has a sister…’

‘Then I’ll have _two_ Sunday girlfriends,’ Adam tartly replied. ‘Or maybe I’ll keep one for bank holidays…’ he added, before wandering off, musing over this prospect.

It was very tempting now to reply to the tweet and tell him what an utterly rubbish idea the whole thing had been. Well, not that Bradley would actually _reply_ to the _tweet_ , for his 140 characters would be accorded far more attention than they merited, and frankly that way madness lay. But Bradley might send Adam a direct message, and berate him for the total _uselessness_ of Bradley’s precious morning. Such a fine day gone to waste already, and it was all Adam’s fault, and if the man was currently enjoying time with his Sunday girlfriend, then Bradley wanted to ruin the date for him.

But Bradley put the phone down, and heaved a deeper sigh than ever. Because it wasn’t really Adam’s fault, it was Colin’s. And perhaps Bradley should learn the art of blaming Colin for things that were self–evidently his fault, but it wasn’t something that came easily. Bradley was as much a sucker for Colin’s sweet earnest charm as anyone, even if Bradley _was_ the only one who complained about it. Colin’s suggestion had been an enticing extension of Adam’s, and Bradley had been quite happy to go along with it.

Until now, when it was all proven to be so much malarkey.

‘Oh _fuck_ it!’ Bradley said, loud enough to spoil the day of those nearest him if they were even listening. He wasn’t going to sit around here to be so obviously alone and miserable. He was going to go home and do so in hiding, like any sensible person would. He shoved his phone into one jeans pocket, then fumbled for a few pound coins from the other to leave by his empty coffee cup. He was just about to stand up when –

‘Erm… Is this seat taken?’

Bradley looked up, confused into silence. Colin. It was Colin, of course, looming tall over the little cafe table, and indicating the empty chair opposite Bradley. It was Colin. But the question had been asked in Colin’s polite public tones, and there was his polite public smile on his face. Perfectly genuine, of course, but neither had been aimed at Bradley for something like three _years_ now.

‘Would you mind…?’ Colin prompted, a hint of wariness creeping into his expression for those who knew him well enough to read it.

‘No, um – I mean –’

That long body dropped into the empty chair, limbs folding in with a haphazard–looking tidiness. ‘Thanks!’ Colin grabbed for one of the menus, and bowed his head over it, a thoughtful frown wrinkling his brow. ‘D’you know this place?’ he asked, glancing back up at Bradley as if Colin were nothing but an oddly friendly stranger. ‘Any recommendations?’

‘Um – Look. I wasn’t expecting –’

‘Oh, were you expecting someone?’ Colin seemed about to spring back up again, twisting around to put his hand on the back of the seat. ‘Sorry!’

‘No, I –’ Bradley was completely flummoxed. Colin knew very well what Bradley was doing there. ‘I was _hoping_  –’

‘You probably thought I just wanted to borrow the chair,’ Colin explained with a nod. ‘But I’m on my own, too, and the place is full – a friend of mine said it was really good, and I thought if you don’t mind sharing…’

‘No. No. Of course not.’

‘Cheers.’ And Colin’s head went back down to consider the menu again.

Bradley stared at the man. All right. He could take a cue. They were supposed to be strangers. Colin had gotten it into his head somehow that they should improv their way through a first meeting, and he’d set this up accordingly. Which was totally weird, even for Colin, but Bradley could go along with it. Unless – ‘Look,’ he said in what he hoped were the friendly tones he usually reserved for Colin. He couldn’t even tell right now. ‘Eoin’s not filming this or anything, is he? This isn’t some Candid Camera stunt?’

‘No,’ Colin replied, the real Colin darting a reassuring glance at Bradley before the stranger Colin wrinkled his brow in polite puzzlement. ‘Sorry, who’s Eoin?’

‘Never mind,’ Bradley said heavily. ‘I think I mistook you for someone else.’

‘Right,’ Colin agreed a bit doubtingly, as if Bradley were being the weird one. ‘Erm, so…’ with a gesture at the menu. ‘What would you suggest?’

Bradley guffawed a bit. He wasn’t meant to know about Colin’s peculiar dietary habits, he supposed. ‘Everything’s good here, but I always go the Full English. It’s got the works. Sausages, bacon, a lamb chop, eggs any way you like ‘em, black pudding if you want it…’

Colin chuckled. ‘Think I’ll go the Full Vegetarian. More my thing.’

‘Sure, if you like spinach!’ Bradley overacted his disdain for all green foodstuffs.

‘I do! And a fresh juice, that’s awesome. Mmm… orange and ginger, I think.’

‘Won’t do anything for you that a triple–shot latte won’t.’

That was met with a guffaw, and then the waiter – far more attentive now that Bradley had company – came to take their order. A silence fell once he’d gone, as if they were indeed two strangers, and weren’t quite sure what to talk about or if indeed they should talk at all. Bradley swore to himself that he would _not_ lead with the weather, even though it was so astonishingly good and obviously comment–worthy. Ordinarily he’d try football, even though he knew that would be lost on his current companion – but maybe that shouldn’t make a difference under the circumstances. He was still trying to work out whether he should or not when Colin eventually began.

‘Erm… So what happened?’ He rolled his eyes down for a moment at the hitherto empty seat. ‘Surely a guy like you didn’t get stood up.’

‘You’d be surprised,’ Bradley said darkly.

‘Yeah?’

‘No, well… it’s a bit of a long story.’

Colin settled back. ‘I’ve got time.’

So Bradley offered a quick summary of the whole Sunday girlfriend concept, even handing over his phone to show Colin the tweet from Adam. Meanwhile, their juice and coffee arrived.

‘Where is she, then? Your Sunday girlfriend.’

‘That’s the thing. A so–called _friend_ of mine,’ Bradley said, casting a quelling look at the very friend in question, ‘asked what I’d do, where I’d go. And I said I’d come here for brunch, cos I know it’s good. And _he_ said I should go anyway, and see what happened. He said I never knew _who_ I might meet.’

‘Very wise, your friend,’ said Colin.

‘Hah!’ scoffed Bradley. ‘He _said_ I should be open to the possibilities that life throws my way.’

Colin had gone a bit pink. ‘Erm, yeah. Well, that makes sense. Doesn’t it.’

‘It’s rubbish. I was sitting here on my own looking like a right twat. It’s not like potential girlfriends were queuing up wanting to buy me a coffee or anything.’

‘No. I see. I see the flaw in his plan.’

‘ _Do_ you…?’ Bradley was still being a bit severe, but he softened when he saw that Colin was really truly realising how badly he’d put Bradley on the spot. ‘Well, never mind. It was a good idea, I guess. Failed in the execution, is all. Maybe he overestimated my manifest attractions.’

Colin slid his gaze away for a moment, two of his fingers pushing a firm zigzag pattern across the tabletop. Eventually he offered, ‘I like the Sunday girlfriend idea.’

‘Yeah,’ Bradley agreed, though he felt like the wind had been taken right out of those sails.

‘I, er – I get pretty busy. My work is… kind of intense. I’m thinking maybe a Sunday girlfriend would fit into my schedule, though.’

Bradley was staring at the man. This was the oddest conversation he’d had in _months_. ‘Yeah,’ Bradley eventually agreed. ‘I’m kind of in the same boat.’

‘Must be hard,’ Colin commented, studying the tabletop as if it might hold the answers. ‘Must be difficult maintaining a fulltime relationship. I mean, if your schedule’s anything like mine.’

Right. Bradley knew what Colin was pushing to hear about. And the funny thing was – funny peculiar, not funny ha ha – Bradley hadn’t been able to talk about Georgia to anyone, not even real Colin. But he could talk to stranger Colin. In general terms at least. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘Almost impossible.’

No words then, as if Colin didn’t want to risk interrupting him. Simply a nod, and an encouraging murmur.

‘I had a girlfriend. The 24/7 kind. She was in the same line of work. Even busier than me, too. I thought – I thought that was good. That it meant – we would understand where we were each coming from.’

‘Didn’t it, though…?’ Colin kept that low and neutral, but Bradley could tell he really wanted to know.

‘I guess. But it was hard. Trying to get to know each other properly over the phone. Getting together for the weekend, and spending one day trying to reconnect, and the next day catching up with laundry before you’re both heading off again.’ Bradley sighed. That was enough of an explanation. ‘We managed for ages. But it wasn’t gonna last. We decided to quit while we were ahead.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Colin quietly offered.

‘So, yeah. A Sunday girlfriend. Kind of limit the expectations a bit. Makes it sound doable.’

‘A few hours of brunch, hugs, and laughter each week.’

‘Totally doable! And fun. Cuts the angst right out of the equation.’

Colin looked a bit doubtful at that last remark – but then their breakfasts arrived, and they were hungry young men, so that sorted out their priorities for the next little while.

And once that was done, they each sat back, and ordered another round of drinks. Talked about easy things such as what a great sunshiny day it was, and whether there was even a point to football – which of course there was, though Colin made a fair attempt at arguing otherwise – and where they most wanted to travel on holiday.

They were standing around on the pavement doing the awkward farewell thing before the more difficult topics raised their ugly heads again. Colin said, apparently to Bradley’s trainers, ‘Well, we’ve done the brunch and the laughter…’

Bradley guffawed. ‘Want a hug, do you?’

‘Yeah, you know…’ A glance from those wicked dark blue eyes. ‘If you’re willing to hug on a first date.’

That got another laugh. Bradley stepped in and put his arms around Colin’s shoulders. It was different to their usual friendly contact. Bradley felt a bit stiff, a bit ridiculous. He was getting rather Method about the whole stranger thing, he supposed. Even though, meanwhile, Colin was pushing in close, kind of moulding himself all down Bradley’s front. Which wasn’t like him at all. Usually Colin was the one to maintain a certain distance, a slight reserve.

So. Colin clung on for a moment, and on into another moment, and then for a moment too long, before finally stepping back and letting go. ‘Same time next week…?’ he presumed to ask, with a hopeful little smile tilted up at Bradley from a bashfully lowered head.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Bradley answered without thinking.

‘See you then!’ And Colin turned and walked off, his tall slim frame soon lost amidst the Sunday crowds.

 _Wait!_ Bradley wanted to cry after him. _Wait! What do I call you?_

But it was too late to find out. So Bradley turned away, and headed home. Alone. But no longer miserable.

♦

## two

Bradley had always known what a good actor Colin was, but even he was astonished as throughout the following week Colin didn’t let fall even a _hint_ , not so much as an _awareness_ that they had seen each other on the previous Sunday and were planning to meet again on the next. It was almost bizarre. Colin didn’t even favour him with a conspiratorial wink as they farewelled on the Friday evening with a ‘See you Monday!’ and of course Bradley received no text message or anything to confirm arrangements.

He turned up at 10:30 on the Sunday rather in fear of being stood up – but he should have known better. Colin was already there, sitting at the same table as last week, and standing up to greet Bradley with a handshake and a warm smile. ‘’Lo,’ Colin said.

‘Hello,’ Bradley replied, sitting down opposite the man, far too aware of how very pleased Bradley himself was, and of how Colin would be able to read that so easily.

‘Hey, I realised after,’ Colin said, the words tumbling from him as if he were just as pleased, ‘I never asked you your name.’

‘No, I meant to ask myself. What to call you, I mean. Well, you know,’ Bradley added lamely, ‘what your name is.’

A wry glance from those bright–dark eyes, and a twist to his smile. ‘What’s your favourite name?’

‘Arianna,’ Bradley promptly supplied.

Colin pretty much hooted with laughter. ‘Oddly enough,’ he stuttered, his acting skills at last failing him as he tried to deliver his line, ‘that’s my name.’

 _‘Really.’_ Bradley perhaps overdid the scepticism, but that was realistic enough.

‘Yep.’ Colin’s eyes were still glinting with humour as he improvised, ‘You can imagine what a disappointment I’ve been to my family.’

‘Mmm, I’m sure,’ Bradley murmured. Then he considered Colin for a long moment before asking, very carefully, ‘What’s your favourite _guy’s_ name?’

Colin considered him, too, but had to drop his gaze to the tabletop before softly saying, ‘Actually, I’ve always been rather fond of Bradley.’

And that got to him like an arrow thwocking through just below his breastbone. He stuttered, too, now. For different reasons. ‘Oddly enough, that’s my name.’

‘Is it…?’ Colin asked, looking up at him again, and just really astonishingly open to him. More unprotected than Bradley had ever seen him. _Ever._

Which of course was when the waiter chose to take their orders. They hadn’t even looked at the menus, but they quickly agreed with each other that they’d have the same as last week. So that got rid of the interruption soon enough.

The moment had managed to hold somehow. Colin was staring down at the tabletop again, two of his long fingers pushing through that same firm zigzag pattern. ‘Bradley?’ Colin said, very quietly. ‘Did you find your Sunday girlfriend yet?’

‘Oh.’ Was that even a topic anymore? ‘No, not yet.’

A pause drew out long, encompassed their waiter coming back with Colin’s juice and Bradley’s coffee, rounded out to envelop them both once they were alone again.

‘For me…’ Colin eventually said, ‘what I really want to find is… a Sunday boyfriend.’

Bradley sat there reeling. After four years – _four! **years!**_ – Colin was finally coming out to him? Of course Bradley had wondered, back in the early days. But Colin had never said, and since then he’d definitely been attracted to women a time or two, though Bradley had never quite thought him entirely straight. So eventually Bradley had just filed it all away under Colin’s many ambiguities, and decided it would never be explained. And now of course Bradley was wondering how the hell to prompt whatever explanation or information that stranger Colin was willing to offer, without ruining this scenario they were playing at.

Eventually, though, without any prompting, Colin looked up and offered, ‘It’s not that I don’t like women. In fact, I like women as much as men. But when it matters – the few times it’s really _mattered_ to me – then it’s always been a guy.’

Bradley managed to locate his voice. ‘I see.’

‘Does that bother you?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘There’s still difficulties – even in this day and age.’

‘You won’t get any from me,’ Bradley stoutly insisted. But then he sighed. The waiter brought their breakfasts, but Bradley didn’t even pick up his cutlery. There was still something he had to say, and Colin obviously realised that, because he just sat there waiting patiently. ‘There’s this guy I work with,’ Bradley eventually started. ‘I used to wonder. He never talked about it, though. He kept his private life private. As he’s entitled to do,’ Bradley added firmly, which earned him a slight nod of acknowledgement. ‘All this time, I’ve kind of assumed he’s bi.’ He leaned forward a little to make his point. ‘It’s never made any difference to how I think of him. He’s been a friend.’

Colin let a beat go by, watching Bradley carefully to make sure he was done. And then he nodded again, and said, ‘You’re a good man, Bradley.’

Bradley laughed under his breath. ‘Eat your breakfast, Arianna,’ he advised.

And so that’s what they did.

♦

The awkward farewell thing was even more awkward than usual. Colin was standing there before Bradley with his hands resolutely shoved into his jeans pockets and his head down, _not_ reaching for a hug.

Well, Bradley wasn’t having any of that. ‘Come here,’ he said, taking the man into his arms. Colin kind of fell into him, and _clung_ for long moments. This was so not the Colin who Bradley was used to, but he was intrigued. This was the Colin who wasn’t a colleague, Bradley surmised. This was the real deal, and Bradley liked him. Bradley wanted to know more. So this time Bradley was the one to ask, ‘Same time next week…?’

Colin drew away, looking at him gratefully, even though he was already starting to cover himself up again with all his public layers. ‘That’d be grand,’ Colin replied. ‘See you then!’

And then he turned to go, and as he walked away he didn’t look back even once.

Which was probably just as well, for Bradley was rather ridiculously left standing there, almost giggling at what was running through his head. Honestly, of all the inappropriate film quotes that his subconscious could have thrown at him, this was the worst.

 _Wait!_ Bradley wanted to cry out. _Colin! **Without one kiss?!**_

Ridiculous!

♦

## three

Bradley was full of a week’s worth of questions by Sunday, and he had no appetite, so when the waiter appeared he brusquely ordered a round of toast – a surprised Colin followed suit – and as soon as they were alone again, Bradley leaned in close and asked, ‘Why does a Sunday boyfriend matter?’

Colin reeled back as if stunned. ‘What…?’

‘ _You_ said that when it mattered, it had to be a guy.’

Colin was looking rather pale. More than usual. He managed a small nod of agreement.

‘So why does it have to be a Sunday _boy_ friend…? Isn’t the point about the Sunday arrangement that it’s not meant to matter much? I mean, it’s not meant to be a big dramatic serious thing, right? Just easy; low maintenance.’

‘Bradley!’ he whispered, as if praying for mercy.

Their toast arrived. Colin couldn’t even look at it. As if he were feeling a bit ill.

‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Bradley asked. When Colin shook his head, Bradley stood, and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ He put a twenty pound note under his coffee cup – momentarily regretting the coffee – but then he reached to take Colin’s hand, and tug him to his feet. ‘Come on!’

This was London, so there was always a maze of little streets and alleyways nearby, which provided deep doorways and alcoves. Bradley headed down an alley at random, then turned a corner so they were out of sight of the main thoroughfare. No doubt there were CCTV cameras, and perhaps even people in the windows he was aware were high above them, but that didn’t matter. All he needed was a bit of immediate privacy.

Colin was staring at him, _so_ pale now, and with a desperate edge to him, as if awaiting his doom.

Bradley took a breath, before saying gently, ‘Tell me.’ He cast a fond, frustrated look over his friend, reached up to run a hand over that beautiful thick dark hair, so artfully arranged to look wild. ‘What’s so important about a Sunday boyfriend?’

Colin wordlessly shook his head. Vulnerable. Just so fucking _exposed_ , as if his emotions had been flayed open.

Bradley had been teetering on the brink of an idea all week. He hadn’t quite dared to think it, but now everything was adding up and presenting Bradley with a sum he could hardly presume was right. ‘Is it me?’ he asked in a hoarse whisper. ‘Is it cos it’s _me_ that it matters? I mean – d’you want _me_ to be your Sunday boyfriend?’

‘ _Yes_ – Bradley – _Yes_ ,’ Colin was saying, his breath coming in gulps now as if he might cry, and that was the most awful thing, Bradley couldn’t let Colin Morgan _cry_ for god’s sake, and he could only think of one way to stop him, so he went with that, he shifted in closer and pressed his mouth against Colin’s – and for a moment they just stood there like that, having worked their way up to the height of the curve – and then Colin’s mouth quivered beneath his, and opened with a gasp, and they plummeted down again, dizzily mouthing at each other in a beautiful messy glorious needy kiss, hands clutching at each other in an effort to keep their balance.

‘Oh God,’ said Colin afterwards, sounding dazed. ‘Oh God! I have to go. I have to go.’

‘No, come back to mine,’ Bradley argued. ‘D’you have something on? Don’t run away now!’

‘This is only meant to be –’

‘It’s still Sunday! This counts.’

‘– a few hours. Brunch, hugs, laughter.’

‘And kisses, and –’

‘And what, Bradley?’ Colin said, striving to re–gather himself. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘Well –’ he stuttered, rather taken aback. ‘What you want to give. I thought this was what _you_ wanted!’

‘I should never have started it. I knew you were straight!’ Colin was pulling away, turning away, his body language closing Bradley out again. ‘I thought it would take us _months_ to get here… if we even got here at all.’ He took a step back, scowling in confusion.

‘No, wait – wait! You said I should be open to the possibilities. I didn’t get it at first, but I’m here now, Col. Arianna. Whoever you have to be to let this happen, I’m here for you.’

Colin was looking at him now. Considering him with more than a hint of wariness. But he hadn’t quite left yet, either emotionally or physically.

‘Whatever you want to give me,’ Bradley said again, trying to make it absolutely clear: ‘that’s what I want.’

And then suddenly Colin had surged against him, into him once more, with his own arms wrapped around Bradley’s shoulders and a hand cupping his nape, and they were kissing like crazed passionate things…

Until Colin broke away again, and stepped back. ‘Thank you,’ he said lightly, though with utter sincerity. _‘Thank you.’_ He was heading off already.

‘Wait,’ said Bradley in a panic. ‘Wait! Come to mine next week. Just come straight to my place!’

Colin’s tall figure disappeared round the corner without an acknowledgement. But he had heard, Bradley was sure of it. He _must_ have heard.

♦

## four

Again, the wait all week without confirmation, with nothing more from Colin than a sense that he was unusually subdued. Not that many people noticed, cos he was as hardworking and diligent on the job as ever. Bradley noticed, though, and worried. But the couple of times Bradley tried to check with him that all was well, Colin neatly sidestepped him.

Which was typical, really. No one made Colin Morgan do anything that he didn’t want to. Apparently not even the guy that Colin wanted to do.

Bradley dared to hope, though. He wanted, he was wanting, something he’d never had before. He wanted Colin, on Colin’s terms. The only question remaining was whether Colin would let himself have what Colin himself wanted. But then why had Colin even gotten them into this situation, if Colin wasn’t finally ready?

Bradley waited. On the Saturday he bought groceries, he tidied the flat, he did the laundry, he put clean sheets on the bed – not without a few nervous qualms, but he was committed now.

Finally, at 11:00 on the Sunday morning, the doorbell rang. Bradley went to answer it, and opened the door to find Colin Morgan standing on Bradley’s nonexistent welcome mat.

‘Oh, thank god!’ Bradley cried with quiet fervour. And he reached for Colin’s hand, and drew him inside. And then he let Colin decide.

♦


End file.
